


remind me

by stephenssupreme



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-31 08:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephenssupreme/pseuds/stephenssupreme
Summary: The Almost Apocalypse has been and gone and after a week apart - because they both totally believe that was a good idea - the demon and his angel reunite.





	1. Chapter 1

The world had been saved! A huge _ hurrah _ for everyone involved. Well, that would be if everyone involved actually remembered what had happened. Fortunately, two single souls on Earth remembered every fleeting second of it all. Crowely and Aziraphale: a caring demon and a disgraced angel respectively.

After spending years working alongside each other nearly every day, Crowley and Aziraphale mutually agreed a short break from each other would be good. Only for a week, to be fair. It was one of those ideas that they both believed was beneficial yet deep down they both knew neither of them actually wanted to be apart for this long. They had fallen in love, after all.

In love with planet Earth, of course. Oh, and each other. An unspoken thing that had never been acted upon.

Crowley had time to dwell on that fact - a whole week to think about his angel. How much he missed sharing lunch with the being he cared most for. It was driving him crazy. So crazy, in fact, he finally realised why they call it love_ sick _. It physically pained him to stay away from Aziraphale for this long. There were so many things he wanted to say to his angel and worried that he might forget these anecdotes, he began to write them down in a small leather bound notepad.

_ We should move away from London - enjoy the world for its natural beauty. Y’know, just like Eden. _

_ <strike>You looked gorgeous in Eden. </strike> _

_ Do you think I should grow out my hair again? _

_ Would you ever grow out your hair? _ _<strike> You’d look so fucking hot </strike>_

_ Let’s go for a drive. Wales is nice this time of year. Sorry for the rain - that was a personal project of mine in the 60s… _ _ <strike> Totally nothing to do with the fact I was fucking sad that decade. </strike> _

The notes spanned over several pages, scrawled down at random times of the day and night. He had sleepless nights all that week and for a demon who indulged in naps like there was no tomorrow, it surely was an odd time.

Finally, though, the painstaking week came to an end and oh how Crowley rushed to his Bentley that morning, more or less flying down flights of stairs in order to get out of his apartment building. Looking over to his empty passenger seat, he smiled to himself as two small and fitting gifts appeared: a box of luxury chocolates and a small bouquet of roses. No. Lilies. He quickly changed them to white lilies, not wanting to be too pushy with the romantic agenda. The truth was, after a week of overthinking, rethinking and simply thinking about thinking… He was _ perhaps _ a little stressed.

It wasn’t a long drive at all, even the usual traffic of London town was relatively tame. It was all rather calming, paired with Mozart's Love Of My Life playing softly from the car stereo. The sight of large, burgundy shopfront doors brought a glint to the demon’s serpentine eyes which were hidden behind his shielded sunglasses. He considered taking them off before walking in, greeting Aziraphale with familiarity - though he soon brushed that thought away as he watched a customer walk into the shop. Perhaps not. Maybe later?

Scooping up his gifts, Crowley clambered out of his car, his limbs looking too long and gangly for his body as he stepped onto the pavement. Today would be the day everything changed. Non-Armageddon had been and gone - it was time for a new chapter in their lives and the demon couldn’t wait to start that endeavour arm in arm. Together at last.

The smell of old books greeted him as he swung through the door, eyes scanning the room for his blond principality. At first he saw nothing but mortal customers, browsing books that would never be sold to them for Aziraphale was known for keeping hold of his ‘products’ It was less of a shop, more of a quaint museum. 

“Ah, a handsome bachelor with his eye out for a suitable literary gift to add to his collection of adoration?” Hummed a sweet voice from behind the demon - one he recognised instantly. Aziraphale. _ His _ angel. Crowley spun around with an open mouth smile, holding out the chocolates and flowers

“I know it’s not much but I thought after our time apart, something small is, y’know, something big.” Goodness, his words were terrible when he was making things up on the spot. His smile began to drop, however, when Aziraphale didn’t reach for the gifts. In fac, he looked rather blank…

“Hm? Oh, I’m sure your love would find them rather acceptable. I quite enjoy those chocolates myself!” The angel was a little amused by the coincidence but thought nothing more of it. “Sorry, I must go and help this lady over here… She’s been eyeing my Origin of Species for quite too long now.” With a small waft of his left hand, he waltzed off to tend to a customer, leaving Crowley there in disbelief.

“Wait!” He croaked out, spinning around to go after Aziraphale.

“Yes?”

“Do you… Nah, this must be a joke but I’ve gotta ask right?”

“... Go on, dear boy.”

“Do you not know who I am?” Crowley tried laughing it off, still not believing what was unfolding in front of him.

With a soft sigh, lips parting as he walked closer once more, Aziraphale shook his head: “I’m afraid I do not. I’m ever so sorry if you’re a celebrity and I’ve failed to recognise you… But II’m not quite up to date with _ popular culture _. Now please sir, I must save my books from that lady’s manicured grasp. Apologies, again.” And with that he pottered off.

Crowley’s hands went numb, dropping his gifts on the floor in front of him. This couldn’t be happening. Not after all they had been through together. Crowley didn’t want to be alone, not now, not ever. His mind began to spin, feet almost tripping over each other as he made his way out the shop. He couldn’t even remember making it to his car but the next thing he knew, he was driving away with o destination in mind - all he could hope was that he would wake up soon and this would all be some kind of sick nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley seeks a sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a small filler chapter, fair warning

It was after around six hours of driving that Crowley's car came to a stop, only ending his journey there since he was at, well… Land's End. He had driven the width of England - London to Cornwall - without stopping once, tears burning his yellow eyes as he trawled onwards. Parked up upon the cliff's edge, the demon let out a gut wrenching scream, slamming his aching hands upon the steering wheel which, in turn, exploded out with a puffy airbag. That was Aziraphale's bloody doing. He was always so worried Crowley would crash one day and accidentally discorporate himself that he worked a little miracle to install some up to date safety features.

Fighting the bag away, Crowley kicked his door open, practically falling out of the car onto a damp patch of grass.

"Fuck."

Sat hunched over in the cold breeze, the demon gazed out at sea… He didn't know what he was looking for exactly but deep down he knew he was looking for a  _ sign _ . A sign that this was part of God's plan and things would eventually be okay. All he saw was a ferry boat, however, slowly disappearing into the horizon. He was so set on seeing  _ something _ that he didn't even realise a young man setting himself down beside him.

"You al'right?" The stranger eventually asked, breaking the silence between them.

" _ Tickety boo… _ " Grumbled the demon, ready to flash his true form at this guy, purely wanting to be left alone. As he caught a glimpse of him, however, he couldn't help but relax a little. If he was honest with himself, he'd admit that this well timed stranger simply looked like a young version oh Aziraphale himself. Of course, Aziraphale had never looked 'young' in the mortal sense of the word but if he had… He would look just like this. Short blond hair in tight curls, a sweet button nose and soft cheeks that had a slight blush. Even his clothes made sense… Sure he was wearing black jeans but the ends of them were turned up revealing tartan socks peeking over his brown, leather boots. Maybe… Maybe this was the sign Crowley had been looking for. "Sorry, I'm being an arse, I promised him I'd stop doing that."

"Nah, fair enough mate - I feel the same honestly. Feeling a little… Lost, y'know?" The man raised a brow, hoping his company would understand.

"Oh yeah, for sure. Look, I know this might sound weird but what's your favourite book?"

The boy looked mystified by this and furrowed his eyes in thought for a moment before he answered with: "Dorian Gray. Kinda worried I'll turn out vain and cursed like him - reminds me to keep humble, right?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Crowley didn't care for the reason, he was simply grasping at straws. If this was a sign about Aziraphale, he thought that to solve the puzzle, Aziraphale's favourite things might have something to do with it. Materialising the book in his hand, he pointedly asked: "give me a page number."

"What?!" Jumping away a little, shocked by the magic he had just witnessed, the stranger struggled to even come up with words, let alone a number.

"Come on. Chop chop."

"Alright, uh--... Seventy seven?"

Crowley quickly flicked through the pages from his newly formed book, scanning over the page as quickly as he could in order to find something to grasp onto. Upon reading one certain line though, he decided to set his heart on that.

_ "You will always like me, Dorian," he replied. "Will you have some coffee, you fellows?" _

You will always like me…

Coffee… 

Perhaps he could make that work.

"Thank you!" Slapping the book shut, it disappeared completely, Crowley standing up instantly, holding out his hand to help the other man up. "I know this probably seems bat shit crazy to you but I think you helped me find my way. Hope you find your way… Sorry, what's your name?"

Also standing up, the blond gulped, nodding to himself as he let go of Crowley's hand. "Nathaniel." A name which literally translates to  _ Gift from God _ … This had to be it. This had to be the sign. Reaching over, Crowley ruffled the young man's hair before bidding him farewell, getting into his car, looking out the back window as he reversed back onto the road.

He was London bound once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley returns to A.Z. Fell 's bookshop

His hands felt clammy.

Nervous was never really an emotion Crowley had felt until recently - the end of the world tends to have that kind of effect on you, you see. He felt so much more… Vulnerable these days and frankly didn't quite know how to deal with that. As odd as it was though, there was still a spark of confidence within him and it was that small spark which led him to open the door to the quaint bookshop in Soho for a second time that week.

"Ah! You again?" Sung an inviting voice as soon as he walked in. It was much quieter today, only two silent customers hopelessly browsing the piles of well kempt but rather dusty books. Aziraphale had been stood behind an antique wooden counter, small round glasses resting upon his slightly bushed nose. That was the worst thing about all of this… He still looked exactly the same as he had done just a week prior. You could go as far as to say he looked much more at ease now than he had been recently.

"Ngk, yeah… Me again. Sorry, I just-" He didn't know what he wanted to say, actually. He had it all planned out in the car: go in, invite him for coffee, make him fall in love. Simple. That was all planned before he saw his face again and suddenly, all preparation and any ounce of confidence had flown out the window.

"No, no, I was hoping you'd come back!" Apon saying that, the angel dipped out of view for a moment, rummaging under the counter before he popped back up with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates tucked under his arm. "You left these here when you rushed off in a hurry yesterday." His smile warmed Crowley's heart, reminding him of how sweet this stupid man really was. 

Wandering over, Crowley in a small lovestruck gaze, simply leant down upon the counter from the opposite side and gently pushed the gifts down away from himself. "I don't need 'em anymore." He kept it simple. Vague.

"Oh?" Aziraphale didn't know what to do with himself, he couldn't just keep them - they weren't his to have, he thought. "Why's that? Yesterday you seemed so smitten. Apologies, you don't have to answer that - I don't mean to be invasive."

"It's alright. He uh…" He couldn't exactly tell Aziraphale the truth but he could twist it a little so he at least sounded convincing. "He was actually seeing someone else I think. I'm not sure - I was going out on a whim and just as I came here he sent me a text. Told me to forget about him." He glanced at the gifts once more and then to the handsome shopkeeper stood before him. You can keep 'em - like you said, they're your favourite." He realised the angel was about to protest so he quickly raised a finger to shush him. "Take it as an apology for creating a scene yesterday."

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Truly, I am. I can't take these though. Feels wrong to take someone else's gift." He was a being of impeccable morals after all. He couldn't force them back onto his redheaded customer though, so instead he placed everything down on the counter as a kind of truce.

"Well I've still got a debt to pay, in that case," whined the demon as he stood up straight once more, standing a good few inches taller than his counterpart. "Let me at least take you out for coffee?" It was a bold move but it had to be made, Crowley told himself. Inside he was a nervous wreck, he could only hope that it wasn't visible on the outside or else he would be doomed. This was his last shot at  _ maybe _ getting Aziraphale back into his life. Without him… Well, without him life just wouldn't be worth partaking in.

There was a rosy blush tinting Aziraphale's face, bringing a soft hue to the tips of his ears. "My… That is rather nice of you. I can't just leave my shop, though." A lie. He totally could. A few little miracles and the place would be empty and he could lock up for the day. He just didn't want to appear too eager, especially since this man had obviously just gone through a breakup literally the day before. "Besides, I don't even know your name!" 

Fuck. That hurt. That felt like a flaming sword was slicing through his gut and wriggling around as it burned him from the inside out. He knew Aziraphale had forgotten him but he didn't factor in the fact that he would no longer remember his name. It was a stupid thing to forget about but his mind was all over the place. He hated the fact that when he answered, it came out more like a lame teenager compared to the fully grown being he was supposed to be. "C-Crowley… My name is Crowley." He sounded defeated and he didn't dare share a glance with the man opposite him. It was over. This was going to be it forever now.

"Well, Crowley… I suppose I could join you for a spot of coffee after closing hours. I believe a place down the road stays open until eight o'clock." Despite Crowley not looking at him, Aziraphale on the other hand, did not look away once. "I'm Aziraphale by the way."

"I know."

There was a brief moment of silence while that all sunk in. Crowley finally realising that his invite had been accepted and also recognising that he let those last two words slip out. "I heard one of the other customers talk to you yesterday." He tried to laugh it off, hoping he had covered his own ass. "Great for the coffee though. I'll… I'll meet you there at around six? I gotta, y'know, go do stuff before." A dry excuse for just needing a moment to process all that had been happening. He did also need to pop home to mist his plants, that had been doing rather dreadfully recently and he couldn't work out why.

"Sounds delightful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bold of you to assume crowley has more than one braincell - he is dumb and in love

**Author's Note:**

> mayhaps this is a 50 first dates au... sue me


End file.
